Succumb
by Nostalgic Uncertainty
Summary: A smart and compassionate young college student with a high EQ, Valerie is friends with Hannibal for almost half a year now. She's the only 'normal' person he likes. Although they're years apart and rather different, they have a bit in common. Both enjoy good food, composing music, and analyzing others. Will Hannibal ever reveal who he is to her? What if she finds out on her own?
1. Unveil

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone you recognize in this! I'm only responsible for my OC Valerie.**

 ** _Listen to "Wus Good/Curious" Instrumental by PARTYNEXTDOOR on YouTube, I'll post a link below. That's what I had on repeat imagining and writing this :D It's an early PARTY song and I'm a huge fan of his. He sings, rap, writes, produces, and engineers his tracks and is so unique and special *heart eyes*._**

 ** _watch?v=ecXqI4ZBGPk_**

 ** _I digress, lemme know if you enjoy this and want me to continue :D I don't have a lot of time to write these days (college student problems), but I'd love to write more of this if you want! Hit me up on here or Tumblr: nostalgic-uncertainty. Alright M out! Enjoy the fic! 3_**

She breathes hard as she weakly opens his front door, halfway leaning into it. Her vision starts to darken around the edges- the last time this happened to her it was due to hypoglycemia, she skipped breakfast in a hurry to class and didn't eat anything. This wasn't due to similar circumstances though, this was sheer shock.

Her steps are sluggish, her four inch heels almost slackening on the ground. Her car was parked up front, no one was around. It was almost dusk. Hannibal must be at work still, Will probably kept him late by barging in unannounced.

What was she going to do now? She couldn't un-see what she had witnessed, her whole world turned upside down in an instant.

The kidneys neatly packed in the fridge the way they were. Bile rose up in her throat and her heart dropped to her stomach, at least that's what it felt like.

To think she was obsessed with his cooking. All those meals she shamelessly indulged in, showering the chef with praise.

Her body was shaking now, she didn't know what to do.

She should tell Jack, Will, Bev, she should tell anyone and everyone.

She was certain one would believe her, she couldn't even believe her own eyes, how could they?!

Tires on gravel and light from headlights shone on her snapping her out of her thoughts.

Suddenly a burst of energy rushed through her veins- Adrenaline.

Fight or flight, fight or flight.

He's an incredible psychiatrist, but she wasn't her patient. Not an official one anyway. To Valerie, Hannibal was the one she discussed politics, classical music, and psychological research with over breakfast that he graciously prepared with her. The one who she would make dessert for in her pyjamas because that's all she knows how to make. They were close friends and she knew all too well that he was going to know something's up the second he takes her in disheveled and clearly traumatized form. His keen eyes analyzing each and every detail, micro expression. After all, he was an intelligent sociopath and a cannibal too. He played us all.

What was she going to do?!

Panic. Pure panic had her breathless. Her heart was beating at what felt like a thousand miles per hour.

Will he kill her? Will he kill her to protect his bacon?

Oh God, she was making food puns even in this grave and scary as fuck situation. She was already losing it. Often she would joke about how she was going to become insane one day, and Hannibal would just throw an amused smirk her way with a glint in his eyes as if he knew what would become of her even then.

She tried to quicken her pace to her car, she wasn't thinking straight as to how she would explain herself when he asked her why she was behaving the way she was.

Her haste coupled with her paleness resulted in her petite frame tumbling to the ground. She tried to break her fall with her hands stretched out in front of her, but she still fell and could feel the scratches burning on her elbows, and her wrist that bent at an awkward angle.

She heard Hannibal slam the door to his Bentley and walk her way.

It was too fucking late, she had no gas in her body. This was it. He was gonna see her, he's going to be suspicious as fuck as to what happened to her, he'll then put two and two together and slice her into bits and pieces, she'll be his dinner tonight.

With that thought and the ache in her stomach increasing ten-fold, her body lurched forward and threw up the salmon she had for lunch all over the ground.

She groaned and started sobbing as tears ran down her face, slowly messing up her foundation.

"Valerie?" she heard shuffling and the sound of his smooth accented voice. He was in full on doctor mode, she could tell just by the tone he used.

Vision blurred by tears, she struggled to breathe. A napkin was softly placed to her lips, elegant fingers brushing her long black hair back that was styled in her signature loose waves as he soothed her fired up veins and jumbled brain.

"Can you walk?"

As he waited for her response, all Valerie could do was observe how youthful he looked in the pale moonlight. His cheekbones were sharp as a razor, the natural shine they possessed beat any highlighter she could ever apply to her less sharp cheekbones. An unruly strand of his soft hair fell in to his left eye as he gazed at her as if she was a sick baby animal- equal parts cute and helpless.

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Control was something she feared losing the most. She didn't drink, didn't get high, the only way she let herself go with was through composing music, writing, and well eating.

Hannibal sighed and helped her up, as if he knew what she was thinking. Supporting her shorter frame, he took her in where it was warm and cozy. Where he killed all his victims. She could see and feel the packed kidney in her fingers again and she felt the remains of her stomach come up to her throat once again.

She lightly brushed against Hannibal as he guided her to one of the armchairs.

"Hannibal I'm-" she covered her mouth trying her hardest not to ruin his plush carpets or fancy furniture by vomiting anywhere even though he was a murderer.

She used all her energy to break away from the psychiatrist and run to the bathroom and started dry heaving into the sink. She stood there for a full minute shaking even more now, the bathroom was cooler than the living room. She needed to go home, no she needed to leave. She needed to run.

"Don't try to force it out, you've emptied your stomach already" she slowly turns around and takes him in.

He's removed his coat and vest and is now in a white button up and black suit pants, looking as impeccable as ever.

I know who you are, I see you.

"I'm sorry," she apologized thinking of the mess on his porch, "I'm- I need to go."

Hannibal looked at her with a curious expression that held a hint of concern, his suit jacket was draped on his arm.

Valerie was feeling quite dizzy, she wasn't sure how she was going to make it home tonight.

"Come. I'll drive you home."

Her eyes widened and she gulped, she lived 30 minutes away. There is no way she'll feel safe in his presence for that long, with his hands steering the wheel no less.

"Oh no no," she hoarsely begin, her throat felt like sandpaper thanks to all that acidic bile that burned its way out earlier, "You don't have to do that. I'm better now."

The doctor's eyes narrowed just a tiny bit, he wasn't buying it.

"I insist Val. You look awfully pale." His voice was smooth, he was talking to her as if she was a sick child in need of care.

As she opened her mouth to protest, he placed his hand on her shoulder and suggested, "At least wait here until you can properly walk again."

She could feel her body involuntarily swaying and leaning into his and her vision darkening at the edges.

Valerie lightly nodded affirmatively, giving into him even though her mind screamed out against it.

A smile graced Hannibal's beautifully sculpted face as he led her to the living room. Plopped on the couch her head felt heavy, she was in desperate need of energy.

Watching him gracefully walk into his kitchen and hearing pots and pans clang she guessed he was making her something.

"Hannibal" she called out and heard a hum in response

"Please don't make me anything. I'm just gonna throw it back up again."

He appeared back in her line of vision, now carrying a kettle and a teacup which he placed on the table in front of you.

 _Tea. Does he make teabags out of organs too or?_

"I've got something very simple here for you. An infusion of hibiscus flowers, citric acid, some cinnamon, a hint of lemongrass, and passion fruit." he explained as he poured it and filled up the cup before handing it to her.

The warm cup felt inviting and soothing in her palm, it smelt heavenly too- sweet yet tangy. She wanted to down it in one gulp, but she paced herself. This was a high functioning cannibalistic serial killer that was offering her tea, and not her put-together classy buddy Hannibal.

Hannibal sat across from her, posture on point as always. His hands rested in his lap, as he calmly stared at her, waiting for her to try it.

"Drink Valerie, I assure you it'll relieve your indigestion instantly. Passion fruit is quite known for its healing abilities."

This was it, either she was going to faint on his gorgeous couch, or she was going to replenish her body risking ingesting whatever fucked up human bits were involved.

 _It wouldn't be the first time_ she sardonically thought as she brought the steaming cup to her lips and took her first sip.

Her senses lit up, flavors exploding on her tongue a bit like pop rocks, but without the chemical taste. She drank about half of it in one go.

When she lowered the teacup she witnessed Hannibal's pleased expression. It looked predatory and she shivered internally despite the tea's warm embrace.

"Good."

And that was the last thing she heard before everything started to spin. It was similar to what she would go through when she tried to lucid dream. Her body was slowly getting numb, while her mind started to show her swirls of colors dancing before her vision.

Her pulse thumped in her ears as loud as ever, breath hitched as she realized what was happening to her, and her hands shook making the tea splash inside of the cup, she steadied it with difficulty not wanting to make a mess.

 _Even though he drugged you, you want to protect his carpet? What the fuck-_

Feeling more sluggish than usual, Valerie tried to lean forward and set the cup on the table so she can lay down on the now oh-so-comfy chair.

 _If I just rest for a little bit, I'll be golden. Just a little bit._

Even in her influenced state, she noticed a shadow cover over her effectively blocking out the yellow living room lighting.

Hands cupped her face tenderly, but firmly and raised her chin up.

She lightly whimpered at the movement, everything felt so heavy.

 _I just want to sleep. Lemme lay down for a bit_

"Shh" those same hands massaged through her hair, pushing it back "I never wanted this for you Val" he apologetically continued "I never wanted you to see me."

Hannibal observed her longingly with a hint of pity in his sharp eyes as her dark brown orbs fluttered close.

Valerie's fingers loosened on the teacup's handle and it started to lull out of her grip, but right before it met its death it was caught by the doctor.

"Perhaps it isn't your time just yet"

Her body slumped against armrest of his couch, Hannibal swiftly yet lovingly scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the kitchen.


	2. Moonlit Haze

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews, favs, and follows! I will gladly continue this for you lovely people. I've never properly maintained and completed a series before (I won't lie haha), but I'm gonna do it this time. Thanks again for the support and hope you like this next chapter! - M**

 _Her body is paralyzed, mind is lost far away into a cloudy haze. There's no pain, only feelings of pressure on her head, it feels like it weighs a ton. She's laying down on a flat, smooth surface. Her body is stationary, but she feels like she's floating on top of a body of water. Swooshing in her ears, muffled noises of movement. A figure is present around her. She can almost see a silhouette in her mind's eye._

 _Her thoughts are all jumbled up, no form of coherent or logical order is present. There's shielded panic in her induced state of relaxation. She can feel the warm breath of sheer danger on her neck._

 _She knows she's not safe._

 _She acknowledges her lack of control- and it scares her more than the bluntness of death._

Valerie wakes up to the vibration of her phone, feeling sluggish and sore all over. She picks up her phone to check the time and what notification kept it buzzing for so damn long. It was a Wednesday and it was 8:00 AM. Yawning and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes she realized that the bed felt much softer than usual, and it was darker than the bright colored sheets she owned.

"Hannibal," she fondly guessed with a smile.

She stretched and got up to face the day, starting with fixing herself up of course. She had killer morning breath going on right now. Not acceptable. The instant she left the guest room her nostrils were hit with the aroma of pancakes and what she guessed were scrambled eggs. Anyone who knew Valerie enough was aware of her love of breakfast food. She harbored a Ron Swanson and Leslie Knope level of obsession for it. So needless to say, words could not possibly describe how appreciative of Hannibal she was at the moment. Plus she felt like she hadn't eaten for days! Her stomach growled like the lead singer of a screamo band- all in all not very charming and around Hannibal Lecter, she always wanted to be charming.

Walking into the kitchen she was blessed with the sight of Dr. Hannibal Lecter in his fluffy, black with white lining robe decorating the pancakes and scrambled eggs set on the bar. His side parted blonde hair falling into his eyes as he looked up and greeted her with his signature "Hello Val" that crinkled his eyes.

"Just in time for breakfast," his accent and lisp always managed to paint a genuine smile on her face that lightened her soul.

He gestures to the seat at the bar and she follows his instructions, unable to resist animatedly shutting her eyes and reveling in the delectable aroma of the heavenly food that was placed before her, which endlessly amused the chef as he sipped on his coffee.

"What did I ever do to deserve your friendship, Hannibal?" she asked as dramatically as she could with her right hand resting on her heart.

"Being your honest, compassionate, and charming self is all that was needed," he playfully responded as he poured her some tea.

Accepting it with a thanks she continued the fun banter, "To be honest, I'm surprised you didn't say petty and weird."

"That too," he quips which makes her chuckle and jokingly protest with a "Hey!"

"Finish your breakfast," he orders trying to appear stern. Val thinks he enjoys watching her eat, as he doesn't join her. He chooses to lean against the counter top behind him instead.

"Yes, Ma'am" she retorts with a devilish glint in her eye as she mock salutes before sipping on her tea, which was perfect of course. Hannibal you culinary genius.

"Careful Miss. Carter, you don't want to add rude to your list of personality traits."

Switching gears real quick she gushed, "Did you know you have killer cheekbones? You could cut up a bitch with those if you're not careful."

Smiling at the blatant flattery, Hannibal mockingly chided, "Language, Val."

She widened her eyes and sheepishly smiled as if to say "Opps!"

"So about last night," she started as she cut up a piece out of the fluffy pancakes, "Did I crash at your couch again?"

Hannibal nodded as he took another sip of his coffee, "I was quite surprised to find you lost in deep sleep in my living room."

"I'm so sorry! I wanted to surprise you."

"Well you certainly did."

She chuckled at the sass the psychiatrist always had in spades, she found it endearing. When she lifted up her teacup to drink some more, she noticed the movement stung a little. There were scratches on her other hand as well. Confused she pondered out loud while the doctor intently heard, "How did I get these?"

"You don't remember?" Hannibal inquired, his therapist mode was in operation.

"Last thing I remember is going to the kitchen to make cheesecake," she explains brushing her hair back as she continues to bite into the pancakes.

 **Author's note: I'm going to add more to this chapter after finals x**


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